


Something to Keep

by Anbessette



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Morning Sex, australian attempts to write west virginia dialogue, duck newton's terrible lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anbessette/pseuds/Anbessette
Summary: He wanted to stay near the only other person who’d seen all the crazy shit that went down in that cave. Wanted to sit in silence with his best friend and remember what it was like to feel normal. And, he gradually realised, he wanted the charming stranger who’d gently swept him off his feet ten years ago, who’d made him feel so cared for and safe for a few wonderful moments.And all of those people were Ned, so. Here they were.
Relationships: Edmund "Ned" Chicane/Duck Newton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	Something to Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Poacher Turned Gamekeeper](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719399) by [TrueColours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueColours/pseuds/TrueColours). 



> This is a sequel to TrueColours's fic Poacher Turned Gamekeeper. Read that one first if you haven't already because a) it's great and b) this will make much less sense without it.

After the abomination dissolved into a cloud of black mist, things got a little surreal. The real world seemed muted, somehow; the sounds muffled and the sights dim as Duck and Ned carried Aubrey Little out of Crooked Bend Cave.

Well, strictly speaking, Duck carried her. Ned was having enough trouble managing his own climb up the slope, what with his walking stick having burned to ash and all. And he’d been hobbling more than a little, and wincing every now and then, ever since being thrown into that wall. (Duck had been thrown against a wall too, in the very same moment, but he wasn’t feeling it half as much as it seemed Ned was. Apparently his concept of what human bodies could withstand as a matter of course was more than a little skewed. Another of those Chosen One things he’d spent the last twenty years doing his best to ignore that had now come up and smacked him in the face.)

Anyway, they got the unconscious Torch Girl into Ned’s car, and then into the hospital, and it felt like moving in a dream, this ordinary moment somehow less real than the fiery magical battle they’d just walked away from.

Aubrey was whisked away by a bunch of nurses more or less as soon as they set foot in the door of the ER, while Duck and Ned sat down at the triage desk to spin some bullshit story about how she’d ended up in this predicament. Ned did most of the talking. All Duck needed to do was nod along and add an air of legitimacy to the whole thing, and he was so, so grateful. He could take a hit and swing a magical sword, sure, but this part? Couldn’t have pulled it off alone in a million years, even though in theory a forest ranger bringing an injured young woman to seek medical help ought to be more believable if he _wasn’t_ accompanied by some shady guy in a wookie costume.

They hung around for a while, but there isn’t much you can offer an unconscious person in terms of friendly support, so they ended up heading out not long after seeing Aubrey settled in her room.

Without really discussing it, they went to Ned’s place. Duck had considered going home to his apartment, but quickly decided he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to stay near the only other person who’d seen all the crazy shit that went down in that cave. Wanted to sit in silence with his best friend and remember what it was like to feel normal. And, he gradually realised, he wanted the charming stranger who’d gently swept him off his feet ten years ago, who’d made him feel so cared for and safe for a few wonderful moments.

And all of those people were Ned, so. Here they were.

They were sitting side by side on Ned’s couch, and Duck could feel the warmth of Ned’s body against his thigh, his side, his shoulder. He hadn’t thought much about Ned’s body for quite some time, but right now he couldn’t seem to think about anything other than the memory of that body pressed against him, laying over him, solid and soft under his hands and lips. Tiredness was catching up to Duck as the adrenaline wore off, and he wanted nothing more in this world than to just crawl into Ned’s arms, bury himself in that broad chest and rest there forever.

Ned had done all the asking last time. Duck wouldn’t have known how to make the first move – hell, he’d barely figured out how to reciprocate. He still didn’t really know how to do this, but at this point he was damned if he’d let that stop him from trying. He trusted Ned enough to know that the worst outcome here would be a ‘no’ on the sex; he wouldn’t be losing the comfort, the friendship, or anything he wasn’t already doing without. And he wanted to touch him again badly enough to run the risk of being shot down.

“I ever tell you about the closest I ever got to an ursus americanus?” Duck said abruptly.

Ned raised his eyebrows. “Pray tell!”

Ned would know where he was going with this, wouldn’t he? Hadn’t forgotten about coaxing that story out of Duck, and what happened after?

“Yeah, I had a bear on top of me once,” said Duck, trying not to blush. He briefly met Ned’s eyes in what he hoped was a significant way. “Just the once. So far.”

Ned blinked at him, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. Which wasn’t generally the kind of response you hoped for after propositioning a guy, but Duck took heart from the fact that he wasn’t moving away from where he sat pressed up against his side.

“That was truly a masterfully crafted innuendo!” Ned exclaimed.

Duck cracked a faint grin. “Thanks, I was pretty proud of it. So, uh …”

Ned answered the question Duck hadn’t quite managed to ask by leaning over and kissing him, natural and easy as if they’d done it a thousand times before. Duck felt a tight knot in the middle of his chest come loose, and relaxed into the kiss like someone sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long day. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, kissing slow and warm and perfect. Eventually, though, his hand moved from stroking Ned’s back to his squeezing his thigh, and Ned drew away.

“Duck,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much it pains me to say this, but I’m afraid this isn’t going to be happening tonight.”

“Oh,” said Duck. He blinked stupidly for a second before his brain came back online, and his stomach seemed to drop down into his boots. “Yeah, that’s – no, of course, that’s fine.” He released Ned and scooched back to the edge of the couch, giving him space. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve -”

“No, no, my friend, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Ned cut him off mid-apology, and clasped the hand Duck had snatched away. “Don’t think it’s that I’m not interested. I am, very much so. But … while the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak, battered, and aching despite a hearty dose of painkillers.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s no problem. Honestly, I feel like shit too, probably wouldn’t be up for much more than this either right now. But … could I stay anyway? Even if we’re not gonna go further, I’d – I’d still like to.”

“Of course.” Ned lifted Duck’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. It was the kind of gesture meant for fictional princesses, and honestly should’ve been ridiculous between large middle-aged men. But somehow, from Ned Chicane, it worked. Duck’s heart fluttered. “In that case, shall we retire to the bedroom?”

“Let’s go.”

Ned’s room looked more or less the same as it had the last time Duck had been there. Probably some of the books and knickknacks had changed, but the overall impression of comfortable, domestic chaos remained.

“Feel free to find a t-shirt or something in … here …” Ned trailed off mid-sentence and as he stared into the mirror inside his closet door. “Have I been wearing this _the entire goddamn time?_ ”

It took a second or two to fully register that firstly, yes, Ned was in fact still wearing that fucking Chewbacca suit, and secondly, Duck had somehow managed to overlook this while practically throwing himself at him. After taking a moment to process, Duck ended up laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“Hadn’t noticed,” he gasped. “ _Fuck_ , we need sleep.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Ned agreed through his own near-hysterical laughter. “All right. I’m gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable.”

Duck grabbed an old Star Wars themed shirt from Ned’s closet, and grinned as a thought occurred. “Hey Ned!” he called. “I’d just as soon kiss a wookie!”

“I can arrange that!” Ned yelled dramatically from the other room. “You could use a good kiss!”

What with the adrenaline crash, the comfortable bed and the soothing white noise of the shower, Duck was halfway to nodding off by the time Ned returned, smelling faintly of soap and damp hair. He’d kept himself awake by examining the details of the patchwork quilt he’d been so charmed by last time. “How’d you get this?”

“The same way I acquired the vast majority of my most treasured possessions,” Ned answered airily as he slipped into bed beside Duck.

“… Am I supposed to guess it was stolen from a celebrity?”

“Ah, how well you know me!” Ned chuckled. “All right, if you’re not going to play along. It was in fact bequeathed to me by the incomparable Victoria, former proprietress of the Cryptonomica.” He looked far off for a moment, smiling fondly, before he returned to the present with a brisk clap of his hands. “Now: do you prefer big spoon or little spoon?”

Instead of answering out loud, Duck turned to lay with his back to Ned in wordless invitation. He wasn’t sure he could talk around the sudden lump in his throat. Asking the person he was in bed with to cuddle had seemed an impossibility ten years ago. Now, though, he didn’t have to ask, because Ned knew him real well too.

The lamp clicked off, and then Ned’s chest and belly were snug against Duck’s back, his arm wrapped around his waist. It was exactly what he wanted, and he let out a quiet sigh of contentment as heaviness began to tug at his limbs and he sank into sleep.

* * *

When Duck woke up, the shade of light filtering through the curtains indicated that it was much later than he usually slept. He stayed where he was for a while, just appreciating the peaceful morning and the comforting bulk of Ned at his back, before eventually getting up and heading to the bathroom.

When he returned, Ned was beginning to stir, clumsily patting the empty side of the bed. It might have been a purposeful ‘come here’ gesture, or else just semiconscious confusion over the change in bed topography. His eyes were still closed, so Duck couldn’t tell whether he was even awake. Didn’t really matter either way. Duck slipped back into the hollow of warmth under the covers, and Ned’s arm promptly wrapped around him again.

“Morning, Duck,” Ned rumbled, his voice thick and gravelly.

“Hey.” Duck’s hand found Ned’s, which was resting over his sternum, and gave it a squeeze. “You awake, then?”

“Getting there.”

Duck brought their hands up to his face, and pressed a kiss to Ned’s palm. Ned made a contented sounding noise and nuzzled his face into the side of Duck’s neck. Duck squirmed a little as the beard tickled him, then in a different way as Ned began kissing him there. Those kisses became less and less haphazard as Ned grew more awake, until Duck was shivering under his lips and the need to get his hands on Ned and touch him back was overwhelming.

He turned around so they were face to face, and kissed him properly, then rolled onto his back and pulled Ned with him.

Ned smiled from his new position hovering over Duck, and said “So, ‘bear on top of you’ was a fairly literal request?”

“Yeah,” said Duck. It came out a little breathless.

He rocked his hips up against Ned’s, and gave a shuddering sigh as Ned ground down in response. They rocked against each other like that, and Duck reached under Ned’s shirt, exploring the expanse of his sides, back, shoulders, drinking in the feeling of sleep-warm skin.

Ned sat back enough to pull his shirt off, which had the wonderful side effect of pressing his weight all the more firmly against Duck for a moment, then tugged at Duck’s shirt until he got the hint and shucked it off as well. They were skin-to-skin from chests to bellies when Ned lay back down to kiss him. Might have been a good moment to get their boxers off as well, except that would have involved a lot of moving, and Duck was far too happy right where he was to care about the soft layer of fabric between his cock and Ned’s thigh. He was covered, surrounded, feeling Ned’s breath on his neck, ear, cheek, feeling his thudding heart against his own chest.

Duck buried his face in the crook of Ned’s neck as he came, then reached between them and brought Ned off as well with a final few strokes.

“Damn,” said Duck eventually, when his breathing had evened out again as they lay side by side. “Just why is it we haven’t been doing that the past ten years?”

It was a rhetorical question. Or supposed to be, at least, before Ned actually went and answered.

In a quiet voice entirely unlike his usual bombastic tone, he said “You were so lonely.”

Duck felt like a hole had opened up inside his chest. He honestly hadn’t been expecting a real answer, and even if he had been he would’ve assumed something about not wanting to upset the status quo, which was pretty much his own reason for never making a move. In retrospect, he should’ve known better; his issues and Ned’s were vastly different, which was a large part of why the two of them got along so well. But _that_ reason hurt.

It was true, sure. Duck _had_ been lonely, more so than he even realised at the time, and he hadn’t been entirely unaware of it even then. But the thought that Ned had seen it too – had seen how long it had been since Duck had kissed someone or how badly he’d wanted to be held – and had not wanted him because of that …

“And I _liked_ you,” Ned continued in that same soft voice that sounded like a confession.

That … did not fit in at all with the painful narrative spinning itself in Duck’s head.

“You were lovely, and interesting, and even way back then I could tell you were an honest to God good person. And I’m not. But I’d like to think I’m at least a better man than someone who’d see that kind of profound need for genuine human connection and just use it to get laid.”

Duck wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whatever the feeling was, though, it made him want to hold Ned’s hand, so he reached out under the covers and did so.

“For what it’s worth,” he said “I always thought you were a good person, even way back then.”

“Well, that’s not my fault,” said Ned with something almost like his usual flippancy. “I straight up told you I was a wanted criminal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t believe you. Thought you were too nice to have gotten up to anything much worse than poaching.”

“… And now?”

Duck snorted. “Oh, now I know at least half the illegal shit you brag about is for real. But I also know you’d volunteer as bait to lure a monster into a trap and shove a walking stick down it’s throat to save me. So. It kind of evens out.”

* * *

Kirby was opening up the Cryptonomica when they came downstairs. He nodded a greeting.

“Hey, Duck. Hey, boss. You feeling better?”

“I feel pretty good,” answered Ned. “Thankfully the Chewbacca suit took the brunt of the blow. I’m feeling fine, like cherry wine.”

Kirby, looking a little confused, said “You told me yesterday you were taking a sick day. Why were you wearing your Chewbacca suit?”

Fuck.

“Oh, uh ...” Ned began.

“I’m a furry,” Duck blurted out.

Ned and Kirby both stared at him.

“What?” said Kirby.

“A furry,” Duck heard himself say, as if from a great distance. “It’s, uh, someone who’s kind of, you know, into costumes that, uh, look like -”

“I know what a furry is,” Kirby cut him off. He sounded almost as desperate for Duck to stop talking as Duck felt. “Uh … congrats, I guess? Live your truth, man. Anyway, I’ve gotta go … dust! I cleaned up a bit yesterday, but there’s plenty more to do, have we ever dusted in here literally ever, Ned?” Without waiting for an answer he hurried off with his rag.

Once he was probably out of earshot, Ned turned to Duck with raised eyebrows. “Duck, my dear …” He spread his arms eloquently. “What the fuck?”

Duck hid his face in his hands and groaned. “I don’t know! It was the only thing I could think of! What else could we have been doing that involved a damn wookie suit?”

“LARPing, having a Star Wars marathon, working on another Bigfoot video, practising with the Lady Flame for a bit part in one of her shows ...”

Duck peeked out from behind his fingers long enough to shoot an anguished glare at Ned, who was ticking off options on his fingers. “Now you’re just showing off,” he accused.

“Maybe.” Ned patted him on the shoulder. “It’s all right. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Ha.”

“Honestly! It’s not the story I would have chosen, but on the plus side it does virtually guarantee Kirby won’t be asking any more questions. And there have been far worse rumours spread about me than that I’m a generous and open-minded lover.”

It was a very Ned thing to say, and surprisingly, it did manage to make Duck feel a little better. At least until the full implication settled in.

“ _Fuck!_ I just outed both of us to your employee, didn’t I? Shit, Ned, I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“Bah!” Ned waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t trouble yourself. Kirby’s already well aware that I’m gay, I’m sure he’d’ve found out about us before too long. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stop him from _completely_ destroying the ambience of my museum. And you should probably get that sword of yours home before it starts yelling at the customers from the trunk of my car.”

Duck passed a couple of tourists in the parking lot who were pointing at the Cryptonomica sign and saying something about Bigfoot. Beacon, thankfully, wasn’t yelling at them. He did start ranting at Duck the moment he was out of the trunk, but for once Duck couldn’t bring himself to care. He just tuned it out, and thought instead about Ned’s casual assurance that Kirby would’ve found out about the two of them anyway, about how ‘Duck, my dear’ had apparently replaced ‘Duck, my friend’. This wasn’t going to be a once a decade thing, Duck concluded, and realised he was smiling despite the endless bitching coming from his enchanted sword. This time, it felt like something they could keep.


End file.
